


Hope, Even in Hell

by Columba_Livia



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Eli doesn't get nearly enough love in this fandom, Fluff and Smut, M/M, so have a nice AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Columba_Livia/pseuds/Columba_Livia
Summary: It takes time, but after the end of the world there's only so many games of poker you can handle.Eli and the deputy finally take a look at whatever has been growing between them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here in my own little AU, my Deputy Logan McDermott manages to fuck up Jacob's brainwashing juuuust enough for things to take a turn and the bombs drop just a hair earlier.  
> Look I put way too much thought into the mechanics of nuclear fallout to write a smut piece.  
> Hope ya'll enjoy!
> 
> Also, this may become a mini series because I've got IDEAS  
> EDIT: I'm super happy to see such a nice response to my story, I haven't written smut in years, much less published it so I was worried I'd be a bit rusty.  
> Also, you lurkers in the bookmarks, I'm glad its good enough to come back too ;)

The first time it happens is after they've been cooped up for a couple months. The close quarters demanded they all get familiar very rapidly, because even though the Den was built to house several people, it's only so big. The well pump had been finicky the last few weeks, so showers had become partly communal to reduce the stress on it.

Logan had lost any sense of modesty in the Army, and had zero fucks left to give after his five month stent in hell, aka Hope county. Eli just had no shame. It didn’t hurt that the two had grown close and comfortable with each other while everything had been falling to hell around them. Murderous cultists and impending doom tend to build strong bonds.

And it was true that the two men were just about the only ones lean enough to share the space in the shower stall without constantly knocking elbows or hips.

Today though, Logan was feeling pent up. A current running under his skin that even working out after supper hadn't helped reduce.  Eli could practically feel the tension rolling off him as they stripped, back to back, waiting for the water to kick on.

Logan fucking _jumps_ when the shower head rattles, water pattering down on their heads. Whatever has gotten under his skin is forgotten momentarily as they both quickly soap up and start scrubbing their hair. Logan’s red birds nest has almost reached his shoulders,  nearly as long as Eli’s mane at this point. It takes more care, but he can't bring himself to cut it for all that it reminds him of his brother.

Soon though, they're both rinsing off, and Logan just won't stop bumping into Eli. Shoulders, hips, knees, and feet. They keep colliding.

Eli pauses, glancing over his shoulder. Logan's shoulders are tense as hell, muscles flexing and warping the tattoo that spreads across them. Then he catches the motion of his arm in the corner of his eye.

“Seriously Logan?”

“Aw fuck off”

After the fourth time Logan elbows him in the ribs, Eli turns around fully. He clamps a hand on the back of the other man's neck and crowds him against the wall.

“The hell has gotten into you today? Chill out bird.”

Logan tensed and shuddered under the grip, emotions warring. His instincts told him to lash out and throw the other man off of him, but this was Eli. Eli had never meant him any harm.

But on the other hand this was _Eli._ And that had him shuddering for an entirely different reason.

While Logan’s mind and body were fighting, Eli saw his troubles and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He practically plasters himself against the others back, hooking his chin over Logan’s shoulder next to his ear and begins to hum the only song guaranteed to relax the deputy under his breath.

As the low tones of _Take me Home_ filter into Logan’s awareness, the panic that had been building fades away. Tension leaching out of his shoulders and dropping his head forward against the wall. Eli’s other hand finds his hip, thumb rubbing circles over the jutting bone and creeping around til his palm is flat on the other man's stomach.

“Easy, that’s it. Just relax”

Soon Logan’s breathing is hitching for another reason, pressing his hands flat against the wall by his head and pressing the length of his body back against Eli.

“See, was that so goddamn difficult? Should’a just said something.”

Logan gathers the wherewithal to level a glare at him over his shoulder, “The fuck was I supposed to say? ‘Gimme a hand cause I can’t get off and the tension is killing me.’ Fuck you man.”

Eli just snorts and moves his hand lower, circling the base of his dick and making Logan drop his head forward against the wall with a whine. It takes him a few slow strokes to figure it out, but with the noises the other man is trying to muffle into his arm, he catches on pretty quick to what works.

He lets his hand go on autopilot, twisting at the base and stroking outwards has Logan practically melting under him, and focusing most of his attention on the man himself. The former deputy has his eyes closed, brows furrowed, and biting his bottom lip. Sucking ragged breaths through his nose as he tries to keep quiet.

Noise may not travel readily through the walls, but the bunker is only so big and the bathroom is just two rooms off the kitchen where everyone was sitting around after dinner.

The release Logan had been so desperate for is finally almost in his grasp, Eli working him with a steady hand towards the peak. He can feel Eli’s own arousal, dick pressed against his thigh.

When Logan finally comes, it's with a gasp and a shudder. His chest heaving as Eli whispers things he can't make out against the arrow scar on his shoulder.

Logan’s knees are shaking as they both stand under the spray for a moment, wasting water and trying to catch their breath. After a moment, Eli releases his bruising grip on the back of his neck, letting him turn around to stand face to face. Eli has a cocky grin on his face, but Logan just rolls his eyes as he moves to return the favor, crowding into his space.

But just as he moves, there's a pounding on the door.

“Hey assholes! Did you both drown in there, quit wasting water!”

It's Eli’s turn to groan in frustration as Logan shakes his head and reaches to shut off the shower. “Fuck off Gus! We're fine. You try washing hair like this in five minutes”

“Alright Dep, I'll take your word for it”

* * *

 

The second shift comes only a couple days later, when the air mattress Logan and Staci had been sharing finally gives up the ghost and goes completely flat. They hadn't really shared it so much as crashed on it whenever they could sleep, regardless of who else was there.

Almost immediately, Wheaty had given Pratt the hammock he'd been working on weaving. It was almost identical to Wheatys own, he'd started on it after Staci had managed to fall asleep sitting in his one afternoon.

So that still left Logan without a place to sleep. The couch he'd so fondly commandeered during his stays while recovering from Jacob’s work already had an occupant and the camping cots almost everyone else used were barely wide enough for one, never mind sharing.

So Logan resigned himself to the idea of rolling out his sleeping bag pad on the concrete floor next time he crashed. At least he did until he woke up on Eli’s mattress.

The bunker stayed a pretty steady temperature of 56 degrees which, while tolerable,  made everyone hoard their blankets at night. Logan actually woke up warm and comfortable,  and not from a screaming nightmare for the first time in months, looking bleary-eyed at Eli’s back in the dim emergency lights.

The blankets were tucked around them both and Logan could actually feel his toes for once.  He and Staci had kept their air mattress tucked in a corner of the storage room, both so they could sleep with their backs to a wall, and they wouldn't disturb anyone when they inevitably got their nightmares. Everyone had started out sleeping in the bunk room, but that had changed within the first week once they figured out who snored,  who sleep walked, and who just wanted some privacy at night.

Eli had had an actual bed frame to go with the mattress originally,  but the last year had changed everyone's sleeping habits. Eli’s twin mattress had been pushed into the corner under the shelf that the camera monitors had sat on, and he'd hung a sheet up at some point to block out more light. Logan felt safe, tucked back against the wall, Eli between him and the rest of the world. He just laid there, not thinking too hard, drifting in and out of sleep for another couple hours until Eli started to stir.

He rolls onto his back with a quiet groan, back cracking as he turns. Eventually his eyes open, glancing over at Logan to confirm that he was also awake. “You sleep alright?”

“Best I've slept in a damn long time.”

Eli can see the unasked question in his eyes though, “You fell asleep at the table, somewhere between the third and the sixth rounds of poker. Figured there was no point in leaving you there to wake up sore, and it's not like I didn't have the space. Thought you were at least partly awake when I walked you here, but I guess not.”

Logan snorts, letting his eyes drift shut again. “Thank you. I didn't have a single dream last night. Longest time I've slept uninterrupted in god knows how long.”

“Aww, no dreams at all? I'm hurt.”

Logan can hear the grin in his voice, cracking a smile of his own.

“You don’t mind sharing with the idiot who shot you?”

“If I remember right, I shot you too and you’re the one who almost died from it. Seriously though. If it helps you sleep, you’re welcome in my bed anytime. I don't mind the extra heat none.”

“ I'll have to take you up on it.”

* * *

And so things went. Over the next couple weeks, just about every second or third day Eli would crawl into bed at lights out to find Logan already there. Usually curled up in a ball, tucked back against the wall. A couple mornings he even woke up to find he had been joined when he had gone to sleep alone.  

It wasn't easy. More often than not Logan was still woken by nightmares, his cries and thrashing waking Eli as well most nights. But usually,  he could now return to sleep. Often with some quiet reassurance and coaxing from Eli.

Tonight was one such night. Logan had just begun to twist and turn when the other man had woken him, hoping to spare him the nightmare. Logan had jerked upright blindly, nearly cracking his head on the shelf above them. A gasp in his throat and covered in a cold sweat, his hands clenching the blankets. After a moment he'd dropped back down, chest heaving and his eyes staring blindly in the dark.  And now they were laying face to face, knees bumping together as Logan tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck.. I shouldn't be here, I'm just ruining your sleep as well Eli.”

“Naw, I knew what I was getting into when I offered to share”

Logan gave a quiet snort, voice thick with emotion, “It’s just… I’m so goddamn tired of everything. Fucking tired of the dreams, the memories, all of it. Sometimes…. I feel like that son of a bitch was right. I should have just walked away.”

“I sure as hell hope that’s just the lack of sleep talking bird, cause I’ve never heard you give up and that sure sounds like giving up to me. You saved all of us. No one in here would have survived if it wasn’t for you”

Logan curled in closer, pressing his forehead to Eli’s chest. His next words were muffled, “I know, but how many people did I kill? I know they made their choices, most of them. But what I did is still on me. Fuck…”

None of this was new to Logan. He’d been a Marine for fuck’s sake, seen active combat in Afghanistan, done the whole song and dance. Sorting himself out last time had taken four years, a lot of therapy, and plenty of peace. It never made things better, but it made them easier.

And now here he was, three months into the middle of a fucking nuclear apocalypse, riding it out in bumfuck Montana. Short stint of brainwashing aside, it sure as hell felt like he should have bigger issues than shooting some people trying to kill him.

Where ever Logan’s thoughts had been headed, they were cut off by Eli wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer. “Shh, come on Logan, deep breaths.”

Logan’s breathing stuttered, shaking slightly as he realized that he’d been quietly crying. Face buried in the other man’s neck, he reached out as well, just trying to hang on. After several minutes, his breathing steadied out to occasional hitches and sniffles, breathing deeper but not loosening his grip.

Eli rubbed his bed mate’s back, quietly holding him as he calmed down. It wasn’t until the hands fisted in the back of his shirt released, that he realized that Logan had cried himself out and fallen back into an exhausted sleep.

With a silent sigh of his own, Eli buried his nose in Logan’s hair and tried to fall back to sleep himself.

If Wheaty came to check on them the next morning when they weren’t up for breakfast and found them still clinging together, well he never said anything.

* * *

It's late at night when things finally come to a head. Or at least, a few hours past lights out. Logan had been spending more and more nights next to Eli, but tonight, Eli had gone to bed alone. The former deputy citing that he wanted to finish his book before he slept. Eli had just given him a knowing look before heading to his bed alone.

Eli had spent the next couple hours tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.  Worried about Logan and a hundred other things that came with surviving the end of the world. He was stressed as hell. The recent lack of time alone hadn't been of much benefit either. Didn't matter what was wrong, rubbing one out was generally a damn good stress reliever.

Which is what found him a hand down his boxers, the scent of Logan strong in his nose as he pressed his face into the pillow, when the man himself pulled back the sheet curtain with a yawn.

Eli freezes awkwardly,  but the other man doesn't even seem to notice anything until he's halfway on the mattress, one knee on the edge. He pauses, confusion in his tired eyes, for a few seconds before he huffs and finishes climbing in, pulling the curtain closed behind him quickly. Now it's Eli’s turn to watch in confusion as Logan settles down next to him.

A tiny smirk pulls at the corner of the red head’s lips before he speaks, “Look, if I've misjudged the situation, speak up, but otherwise…” And with that he leans in catching Eli in a kiss.

It really shouldn't have come as a surprise to Eli at this point, but he’s still caught off guard for a moment before kissing back. It was hard and awkward at first, tongues against teeth and lips, until they relaxed a bit. Soon though, Eli brings his hands up and pushes back on Logan’s shoulders gently, rolling the other man onto his back and following, swinging a leg over his hips.

He straddled Logans waist, grinding down slightly, hands on either side of his head as they both pulled back to catch their breath. “Are you sure?”

“ _Yes._ I’m fucking sure Eli, I don’t think you know how long I’ve been sure.” There was a fire in Logan’s eyes that Eli hadn't seen in months, alive and not just _existing._

“Come on then, get those off,” he said, yanking at Logan’s sleep pants. The other man lifted his hips up off the bed to assist, kicking them off once they were down around his knees.

The grind was immediately better. Logan’s moan was muffled into his shoulder, and he was rewarded with a similar noise from Eli; his hips twitched harder against Logan’s, pressing the firm heat of him against him in a solid grind. He was pretty sure he could feel a wet spot on the front of Eli’s underwear as he ducked his head to whine against his throat.  
  
“Fuck,” Eli hissed. “Fuck, Logan. Could come just like this.”  
  
Logan’s thoughts stuttered at the implication. Sure, they wouldn’t have much in the way of clean underwear, and the sheets would need a wash, but… would it really be that much of an issue?

“Yer goddamn lucky that tomorrow is laundry day,” he growled, hooking a leg around Eli’s waist to bring him closer. “Come on, you really want it don’t you?”  
  
He angled his thigh a little better for Eli, giving him something easier to rock against. Eli took to it eagerly, his fingers tangled in the sheets as he twisted his hips to get the friction he needed. Just seeing Eli so desperate had left Logan fighting the urge to drag him down and just rut together, but he’d wait - he’d get Eli off first. The sight of him like this was damn well worth it.  
  
His hand slid up his back, twisting fingers into his hair again. Logan held tight, and he used his grip to haul Eli down for another kiss. It was messy, distracted from Eli’s end; Logan swallowed his partner’s high pitched noise, and he felt himself twitch when Eli lost his rhythm for a second. Eli stuttered, his needy sounds catching in his throat. Seconds later, he felt the wet patch on Eli’s boxers spread.  
  
Logan swallowed his moans as Eli’s hips slowed, grinding just a moment longer to wring out every bit of pleasure he could. The younger man propped himself up on his arms then, breathing hard, his cheeks and lips flushed. There was a lazy smile on Eli’s face.  
  
“Better?” Logan asked, smirking.

“God yes, much better” Eli leaned down eyes slipping shut as he pressed their foreheads together before leaning in for another kiss. “I think I still owe you one though”

“I mean, I'd _like_ to get off tonight,” Logan rumbled, his hand sliding down between them into his own underwear.

Eli swatted his hand away, tugging the briefs down and replacing Logan’s hand with his own. A quiet groan punched out of Logan’s chest at the feeling of Eli’s calloused fingers rubbing over the head of his dick.

“Hang on to something," He placed one hand on Logan's hips,with a contemplative look, "Let's see if I'm still any good at this." Eli dropped his head, taking Logan's length almost halfway in his mouth and rolling his tongue around.

Logan twisted his fingers in Eli’s hair tightly, nodding a bit. "Wai- Fuck!" His head rolled to the side, back arching. "Eli! Oh my god-" One hand came up, covering his mouth to try and muffle his involuntary noises.

Eli pressed his hips back down against the bed so Logan didn't choke him, groaning a bit when he pulled on his hair. He took in a bit more of him, still working his tongue, and glanced up, giving a quiet hum at the flush across Logan’s face

Logan's voice slowly got louder, hips bucking up. He didn't get far though, the grip on him tightening and god that was a novel sensation. Even though he was still trying to rebuild muscle, Logan’s strength was nothing to scoff at. He was definitely not used to this. "Eli, fuck, please-" He whimpered, legs shaking, knocking against Eli’s shoulders.

Eli kept going, moving his head up and down a bit, rolling his tongue until he could feel the muscles of Logan's stomach starting to tense under his hand. He pulled away, "Easy now," nipping along the insides of the others thighs before sitting up fully.

“Oh my god you fucking tease,” Logan grumbled, reaching out to swat at Eli’s shoulder, “what the hell”

“Look, it's been ages, and my gag reflex ain't exactly what it used to be-” he rasped, “just relax bird I'll get you there” Eli’s fingers are dry, and it’s kind of rough, just this side of too much, only spit easing the way as he strokes him.

When Logan comes, it's dry, twitching in Eli’s fingers, his head thrown back and chest heaving like bellows. In the shower he hadn't paid it any mind. Eli hadn't been certain what to expect,  only knowing that Logan’s equipment worked a little different than most folks. A combination of drunken anecdotes and late night talks, little peeks into the stories Logan wouldn't tell just anyone. The scar bisecting his chest, the rippled flesh of his thigh. Marks he'd come to Hope County with and quiet tales of combat, not in the Middle East,  but with himself. Or at least who others perceived him to be.

Right as Logan slumps down, basking in the afterglow, Eli is reminded of the increasingly uncomfortable mess in his boxers. Still holding himself up with a shaking arm, he shuffles them down, kicking them off to join Logan’s at the end of the mattress.

Logan doesn’t even bother to open his eyes as he reaches over to drag the blankets back over them. 31 and 32 might not be old, but damn, they aren’t teenagers anymore. So with sleep finally setting in, they both curl together, Logan against the wall and Eli’s back against the taller man’s chest. Quiet goodnights are exchanged, along with a few more lazy kisses, before they both fall into a much needed rest.

* * *

They both sleep late the next morning. Several bets are settled when Logan goes storming through the Den after Gus, buck naked, Eli trailing behind wearing only Logan’s plaid sleep pants and trying to talk him down.

Tammy didn’t have to wash dishes for a month.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord please forgive me cause I barely know how to play poker. Blackjack or Euker are more my speed. Or Spoons, now that’s a wild time.

 

“Nope, that’s it I’m out” Tammy threw down her hand of cards, leaning back in her chair. Staci and Logan eyed each other across the table, hoping for some tell, while Wheaty glared a hole in the wall, trying not to give away his hand.

Eli was slouched in his seat, glancing from his cards to the rest of the deck and waiting with a bored expression.

Every few days, everyone in the bunker would get together for poker night after dinner. Some people played, and some just watched.  They normally bet things like chores, reading material, and occasionally clothes to keep things interesting. Strip poker had only happened twice, both times when they’d had the still running and were mostly blackout drunk.

Tonight though the pot was a bit of a mix. There was a nice knife, two ratty paperbacks, an IOU for chores, and a pair of heavy wool socks.

Tammy was the only one to bow out on the Flop round, with Staci folding on the Turn. By the time they reached the River, Logan was getting antsy. When Wheaty’s turn came he called a raise with a smirk. 

He pulled his phone of all things from his pocket, setting it in the center of the table with a grin. “Whoever wins can go through my file of embarrassing photos and delete one,” He said holding up a single finger.

Logan grumbled as he wrote on a scrap of paper and threw it in. “Fine. Winner gets their pick from my pile of blankets.”

“Hey, that’s not fair- you share with Eli anyway!” Wheaty interjected.

Eli snorted, “Barely, he’s a blanket hog,” he sat up straighter in his chair, “Winner gets to pick what’s for supper when it’s my night to cook next week”

He leans in, flipping the last community card and finally cracks a grin of his own as he sets down his hand. He’s got four of a kind.

"Goddamnit!” Wheaty tosses his cards in with a curse, he only had a flush, “How do you do that every time”

“Counts the cards. Gotta use that big engineering brain for something,” Logan grumbles, collecting all the cards to shuffle them again, as Eli reached past him to collect the pile on the table.

The first thing he grabbed was Wheaty’s phone, immediately unlocking it with a couple swipes and digging for the photos.

“Hey hold on-” Wheaty reached around, trying to snag his phone back.

“Nope, you said I could delete a picture. That’s all I’m gonna do, honest,” he swore as he flipped through the file aptly labeled ‘embarrassing shit ;)’ After a couple seconds, he started to laugh, “Logan, look at this-” flipping the phone around so he could see.

It was a picture taken while they were both asleep on the couch, Eli with his head thrown back snoring, legs splayed out in front of him, with Logan leaning against his side, taking up the rest of the couch with his legs thrown over the end.  One of Eli’s arms was wrapped around him, like he was afraid he’d disappear.

Logan can remember exactly when it happened. Eli had just managed to convince him to come back to the Wolf’s Den. He’d been such a mess at that point, an enemy at every turn it felt like. He’d known Jacob was screwing with his head, known it had something to do with the Whitetails, but he didn’t know what and was reluctant to put them all at more risk. Eli had made him eat something as soon as he’d dragged him back to the Den  and they’d ended up on the couch talking.

He was practically drowning in an oversized sweatshirt, his cheeks hollow, and bruises under his eyes. Hell, Logan had weighed 187 when the chopper had gone down, and by the time the bombs dropped he’d been down to 156 lbs. Stress, torture, starvation, and injuries had all taken their toll.

There were stress lines around Eli’s eyes that didn’t quite disappear in sleep, and his exhaustion was practically palpable. The war in Hope county having aged the engineer well beyond his thirty one years.

But maybe a week before the end came, he and Eli had both managed to find a moment of peace. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Eli wakes up to a cooling bed and a pillow tucked against his back rather than Logan. He could go back to sleep, the dim lighting and his internal clock both suggest that it’s still either very late or extremely early. But as cool as the other side of the mattress is, Logan has been gone longer than just a short jaunt to the bathroom.

So rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eli hauls himself out of bed, to go in search of his wayward partner. This isn’t the first time Logan has disappeared in the night, but Eli usually notices sooner.

He walks silently through the rooms of the bunker, socks quietly scuffing the cold concrete. Eli heads for the kitchen first, Logan’s usual late night haunt. Wheaty is snoring quietly in his hammock as he passes by, gently swaying.  Staci’s hammock hung directly beside him is empty.

The question of where Pratt went is solved much quicker. He’s sitting in the kitchen, at the table, thumbing through a book with half a chocolate bar in his hand. When he catches Eli’s movement in the corner of his eye, he looks up like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You see Logan come through?” Eli keeps his voice pitched low as he asks.

“Uuh, yeah, a little bit ago. But he was heading back your way.”

“Huh, thanks” Eli swivels back around after a moment, heading the way he came. There’s only a couple places Logan could be if he went the other direction, but Eli is pretty sure he knows where to find him now.

Logan is laying on his back, precariously perched on one of the steps leading up to the bunker hatch, one leg dangling down, an arm behind his head and the other extended, pressed against the door.

As Eli approaches, he turns to watch him, pressing a finger to his lips before patting the step below him. Eli’s not sure what’s going on until gets closer and notices the change in the bunker’s background noise.

Eli tucks himself up against the wall, scooting in behind Logan and letting him rest his head on Eli’s stomach. 

“It’s raining outside.” Logan whispers with hushed reverence. For nine months none of them have ventured outside, waiting on the radiation to reach passably low levels. They haven’t felt sun or wind or rain on their skin and it’s been eating at them all. 

Psychologically they’ve all been doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances, but the quiet sound of rain on the metal hatch is a balm to Eli’s soul that he hadn’t been expecting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I'd add some more to this because the scene I wanted to write just isn't cooperating with me. It'll come eventually.


End file.
